


I Want to Forget - Fic

by Chad Warwick (FanficbyLee)



Category: American Horror Story
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-01
Updated: 2012-04-01
Packaged: 2017-11-05 02:02:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/401234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanficbyLee/pseuds/Chad%20Warwick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>After Rubberman, before Halloween 2010.</p>
    </blockquote>





	I Want to Forget - Fic

**Author's Note:**

> After Rubberman, before Halloween 2010.

Character: Chad/Patrick  
Genre: Slash  
Author: [](http://sylar.livejournal.com/profile)[**sylar**](http://sylar.livejournal.com/)  
Fandom: American Horror Story  
Word count: 770  
Rating: G  
Prompt: Do you have a good memory? [](http://theatrical-muse.livejournal.com/profile)[**theatrical_muse**](http://theatrical-muse.livejournal.com/)  
Notes: After Rubberman, before Halloween 2010.

  
I didn’t want to see those screen names anymore, but I couldn’t help myself. Each and every time I closed my eyes JungleJim4322 and Hardlovejunky656 appeared in lurid glowing neon. Awake or asleep I couldn’t stop thinking about him, about them, and the vile relationship they had. Patrick said he’d never met JungleJim in person, but he was lying. I knew it. He lied to me every time he opened his goddamn mouth. Jesus Christ I hated him so much for making a mockery of our family.

It was too warm in the rental car, but I didn’t want to turn on the AC. I’ve watched lots of cop shows, and they don’t run the AC. But I didn’t like the feel of sweat trickling down the back of my neck, and I was so tempted to pour the entire bottle of water on my face to cool off. Next time I was a sneak and a snoop, I’d do it at night. I took another drink, then started worrying at my lip while I watched for Pat to leave.

Spying was exhausting work, but I didn’t have the money to hire a private investigator. The rental was costing me $30 for the day, but it was the only way to make sure Pat didn’t spot me following him. He knew my car. He’d changed the battery and oil in it for me more than a few times, and we’d washed and waxed our cars together a lot too but not anymore. He didn’t do nice things for me or with me anymore. I could taste how much he hated me the second we made eye contact, and the thought of that made my fingers tighten on the steering wheel until my knuckles went white and tears run down my cheeks.

He was supposed to love me as much as I love him. We bought the House together. We gave up our apartments because we were going to start a family together, but I guess I wasn’t kinky enough for him. Fucker. Not that I’ve tried any of that stuff that he does in his cyber dungeon with JungleJim43Fucking22. But it wasn’t as if Pat asked me to do any of it either to find out. That’s what hurts the most. He didn’t even ask me. We could have experimented together. I’m not all that vanilla. I swear I’m not.

God I hate him too. I wish we were legally married then his cheating on me would be something I could drag him through a nasty divorce for, but we missed that window when it was legal in California. Right now even if Prop 8 got thrown out, I’d never put myself in this kind of position again. There’d be no second partner to rip out my heart and throw it down the garbage disposal.

There was a flash of blue across the parking lot, and I saw Patrick standing in the sunlight. He was fresh from the shower, the sun shining in his gorgeous blond hair. I hated that he got to me. Hated that I wanted him. He had his car keys in hand, and I started up the rental as I watched him climb into his Explorer.

“That’s right. We’re broke, and you’re driving that gas guzzler why?” I knew why. “It’s so you can store all your bondage equipment in the back.”

Patrick pulled out of the parking lot, and I got behind him letting two cars between us. He wasn’t heading for home or for his job. My guts were in a knot as I followed him. I kept trying to remember if any of our friends lived on the route he was taking, but none of them did. He was off to see his boyfriend or one of his boyfriends. I slid the rental behind a van when Patrick parked. I watched as he walked to the front of the apartment building. The address was in big numbers across the awning ‘4322’.

“Well that answers that question. Now I’ll never ever forget that number now will I? I hate you.” For all of a minute I thought about following Pat inside to confront him and his lover, but I couldn’t do it. Instead I opened the car door and threw up onto the pavement. The stink making me retch a second time where all that came up was water and bile. I wiped my face and eyes, and then started the car. I didn’t need to see them. I needed to get back to my house. I needed to go home. 


End file.
